In The Eye Of The Hurricane
by leangrypeanut
Summary: Blaine is learning that it will take more than forgiving Kurt to close the door on Kurt's betrayal. The morning after the engagement, one shot following Only Ever His, which should be read first.  Part of my Sons&Lovers!verse


AN: This story is a sort of interlude between Only Ever His (which should be read first) and the planned sequel, tentatively titled Inside These Lines (which is to be written). Part of the sons&lovers!verse.

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><p>"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Kurt can hear Blaine's muffled complaint as his phone alarm goes off. Kurt flails for a moment, trying to reach his phone without moving, before he remembers that he left it across the room; it's a failsafe way to be sure he actually has to get out of bed to turn it off. Kurt sighs heavily, kissing Blaine's exposed shoulder before rolling gracelessly to his feet.<p>

"I have to shower and get ready to go to the hospital," Kurt whispers. Blaine's head is buried somewhere under a pillow; his shoulder twitches and Kurt knows he can hear him. "Go back to sleep for a bit."

Once in the bathroom, he winces at the light, slapping his eyes shut as he shuffles to turn the water on. His body is wrecked- it feels like he's been beaten; not surprising considering the massive amounts of alcohol he'd put into his system two days ago. And then, of course, there was last night. He glances down at his hand; a simple band on his finger is confirmation enough that last night was real. It's strange, the mixture of feelings flooding him; elation and rightness; but also a sick sort of shame that makes his stomach feel funny. A lingering heaviness; this happiness won't sit right, with the memory of how much damage he's done. He's getting married. To Blaine. The fact alone is almost enough to get him singing in the shower. But, then of course, there's_ that_. Kissing Jason, hurting Blaine. Hurting Blaine so much.

Kurt rests his head against the damp shower tiles. He's barely slept; he's emotionally wrecked, just a hot mess of conflicting feelings. He takes a few seconds, to breathe and try to calm his anxious stomach, trying hard to tamp down the riot of feelings; he finishes his shower mechanically, meticulously thinking through every step of his shower routine to keep his mind busy.

When he steps out into the cold of the bathroom, he finds Blaine, blearily stripping off his boxers and stumbling toward the shower Kurt has just turned off. As he passes Kurt, Blaine places a small kiss on his shoulder, pausing to look up and into Kurt's eyes in the mirror.

Blaine begins to wake up, really wake up, while Kurt showers. For a moment, he luxuriates in the bed. Kurt's bed has always been one of Blaine's absolute favorite places on earth. Some of his happiest memories are tied to this piece of furniture. It's dark in the room- it's just past five and the sun is not quite up yet. He feels…not happy, but safe. Content. In the darkened room, lit only by the lights spilling through the opened bathroom door, Blaine can just see the silver of his ring, startling and unexpected, on his finger.

By the time he's shuffled over to the bathroom, Kurt is turning off the water. He'd like to ask Kurt to turn it back on for him, but honestly, that seems like so much work. The bathroom is warm and smells deliciously familiar; Kurt is damp, eyes still puffy with sleep; something about how disarmed he is tugs at Blaine just a little. His kiss lands on Kurt's shoulder, mirroring where Kurt had kissed him earlier; he's about to make some sort of witty observation on that when he looks up at Kurt in the mirror.

For a minute, the silence is shocked; Kurt's skin is littered with bruises and crescent shaped bite marks. It's practically a road map, ownership and lust explicitly laid out all over Kurt's neck and torso. This isn't what draws his attention though, any of it. It's an earlier mark that sits amidst the rest, no different really, but for some reason, it is. Different and wrong and foreign. As if hickeys are fingerprints, tied ultimately to the maker; and this one clearly doesn't belong to him.

There's a second when Blaine wants to dig into it, take his fingers and press hard, bruising hard, against that mark. To mirror this pain he feels, just inside his chest somewhere, needles pricking; bleeding him. For a terrifying moment he hears himself thinking, _"I can't do this." _The ring on his finger feels all wrong, the boy in front of him too much a stranger. There is a shifting, hundreds of small fissures breaking into the foundation that is _them_. He's stuck between two choices he never wanted; living without Kurt, or living through what Kurt has done to them. He wishes he'd never seen that picture. It's one thing to know that Kurt kissed someone else, let someone else put their hands on this beautiful skin; skin that up until two days ago had only ever been his. But the image of Kurt, loose limbed and sprawling into Jason's lap, burns. Blaine can feel it, scorching into his skin and bones and branding itself into his brain and tattooing a mark onto his heart.

Kurt is smiling at him a little in the mirror, unaware, still open and warm; when he sees where Blaine's eyes have drawn, he shudders. That complicated tangle is back, knotting and twisting and ruining his insides. It's a slew of feelings, pelting and assaulting from different angles. Its shame and hurting because he can see the dimming in Blaine's eyes. It's some sort of resentment- not towards Blaine, but towards this...this intrusion, this thing he's done that is still there. This look in Blaine's eyes, the gaping space between two bodies that are physically close but really so far away, tells him something new. This will be here for a long time; this hideous color painted over everything good, staining and straining _them_. Kurt knows he _deserves_ this, every sharp pang, this compunction and misery. He knows that it has to pale in comparison to what he's done to Blaine; it's punishment and penance he'll take gladly. But he'll still wish it could be different, this morning. This first morning knowing that they've promised forever, forgiveness and love and family.

In the mirror, Blaine sees Kurt, clearly. Sees the wave of emotion and distress and wishes that he might take some of that, shoulder some; but it's Kurt that's done the hurting. It's Kurt that must shoulder this. Blaine is a helper, a people-pleaser; it's instinct to want to fix this, but he knows that he can't do it alone. If they are really going to fix this, he has to learn to let himself be hurt; find a way to give them both the permission and space to forgive Kurt, somehow. This is work he cannot do for the both of them.

Blaine tries to smile; it's unsure and not at all natural; he wonders at the radical shifts in how he's felt, is feeling, since waking. Last night, before they'd dropped into sleep, he'd been exactly where he wanted to be, felt more loved and in love and connected to Kurt than he ever had. But in that moment, they'd been nothing more than in the eye of a hurricane.

This morning, the reality of what's transpired is reasserting itself. When Kurt had told him what had really happened, he'd felt a sort of relief. He'd honestly believed that Kurt had slept with Jason- a kiss seemed so much _simpler_. It had still stung, but it paled next to the hurt Kurt had caused by _forgetting_ him. At that moment, that had seemed like the most important consideration; wanting Kurt to really get why this had torn into him- that was what he needed. The kiss had been forgiven before Kurt had even left the room.

That Kurt _had_ understood the deeper cuts; that he'd come back, pliant with apology and love, so tender and vulnerable- Blaine had no choice but to forgive. Intellectually, he could understand why Kurt had behaved the way he had, and at the time, that had been enough. Because not loving Kurt was an impossibility. Blaine had sat on that bed for hours, trying to imagine a life without Kurt in it; finding a way to forgive Kurt seemed difficult; maybe the most difficult thing he'd ever have to face. But it was something he could do; a life without Kurt was not.

But in this morning, dawn is breaking; outside the birds are waking and somewhere downstairs Finn is shuffling into the kitchen to make coffee. And inside this bathroom, Blaine is learning that it will take more than forgiving Kurt to close the door on this. Understanding something in your head and reconciling those actions in your heart were different things. Looking at this man in the mirror in front of him, a boy he's loved helplessly for years; Blaine is realizing that loving someone so fully doesn't mean the pain and betrayal leave when someone has taken your trust and bruised it. It was a kiss forgiven and a phone call forgotten that still linger, bruising under his skin. Knowing that there had been no _intention_, that Kurt would never hurt him on purpose, might make what happened easier to rationalize, but does nothing to mitigate the pain. Blaine doesn't have any easy answers that will heal this. He's rooted, powerless to this love that he won't ever walk away from.

Understanding is dawning as light is filling the bedroom behind them; time is what is needed. When Blaine smiles at Kurt in the mirror, it's more present; more _Blaine_. He's resting his head on Kurt's damp shoulder, squeezing their bodies together, acting on faith. Because it isn't over, the eye of the storm is passing, passing so quickly; but they'll weather it, tethered by these rings, these hearts, and so many promises.


End file.
